Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Lithuania and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Anthony Braxton to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every E-Dancer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Raincoats,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Marmalade,
Sex Pistols,
The Evens,
Scientists,
Sarah Menescal,
The Fortunes,
Dave Gahan,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Black Sheep,
Au Pairs,
Nik Kershaw,
Judy Mowatt,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pagans,
the Association,
B.T. Express,
The Move,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Misunderstood,
The Sonics,
The Residents,
Marc Almond,
The Trojans,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Dead C,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Tom Boy,
Blake Baxter,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Skarface,
Moby Grape,
Rapeman,
The American Breed,
Ten City,
Depeche Mode,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Doors,
Sparks,
Maurizio,
T. Rex,
Absolute Body Control,
Banda Bassotti,
Joe Finger,
Mandrill,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ohio Players,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Man Parrish,
In Retrospect,
Ronan,
The Moody Blues,
The Young Rascals,
Technova,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Hashim,
Rod Modell,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.